All Tied Up and No Place to Go
by Spader's Main Squeeze
Summary: Red goes missing after yet ANOTHER romantic entanglement with Madeline Pratt. Lizzie comes to his rescue, but has a little fun before setting him free. This takes place post S2:E14 (T. Earl King V), and is based on a prompt from the ever wonderful Hestia Prytaneum via Tumblr!
1. Chapter 1

**_Standard Disclaimer: this is rated M for mature...or naughty, if naughty started with an "m." As always, these characters belong to NBC...I just like to borrow them on occasion._**

 ** _As always, I appreciate any and all feedback - I can't improve/grow/all that happy jazz without some constructive criticism!_**

Lizzie's cell phone rang mercilessly, its familiar tone clanging and clamoring against the walls of her sparsely decorated office. "I do NOT have time for this today," she muttered under her breath as she glanced at the caller ID: "Nick's Pizza."

Lizzie had been at the Post Office since 5 a.m. playing catch up on the backlog of paperwork and incident reports long overdue. The task force had been exceptionally busy the week prior; Ressler being loaned out to the FBI's Joint Terrorism Task Force during that time certainly didn't help matters.

Resisting the urge to silence the phone and send the caller to voicemail, Lizzie reluctantly answered.

"What do you want," she said, the exasperation in her voice all too evident.

"Elizabeth, its Dembe. I am sorry to bother you, but we have a situation."

Lizzie snapped to attention, the heavy, work-induced fog surrounding her lifted.

"What's going on?"

"Reddington has been taken by Madeline Pratt. She met with him to discuss a job she was doing...something about stealing the Saliera by Benvenuto Cellini, on loan at the National Gallery of Art. He just can't resist a challenge..or that woman."

Lizzie felt her face flush with frustration and resentment. The FBI had already expended a great deal of time, energy, and resources bailing Reddington out of numerous situations, each more dire than the next. Furthermore, this was the third time his dalliances with THAT woman had yielded disastrous results. But it was her feelings for Reddington that angered her most...those inklings of possessiveness, jealousy, attraction. She shook her head as if to loosen their grip, uprooting the emotions that had begun to cloud her thinking.

"Dammit," she finally replied. "Tell me what you know."

"All I have is an address...I will be there in three minutes to pick you up."

With that Dembe ended the call, leaving Lizzie to stare at her phone as though it would suddenly reveal all the things she needed, and wanted, to know.

Dembe slowed the car in front of the Post Office just long enough for Lizzie to open the passenger door and get in. They traveled for several minutes, zigzagging across the town as not to be followed, before he spoke.

"Raymond met Madeline at the Mandarin Oriental hotel for dinner and drinks. When they retired to her room for the evening, I stood guard outside, as I always do. When they did not reappear the next morning, I became concerned, and forced my way in. They were gone."

Lizzie listened intently, cataloging everything Dembe was saying. She made a mental note of filing the bit about "retiring to their room for the evening" under the "why should I be jealous, he's just my CI and I have no claim to him otherwise" category.

"So how do we know where they went? And was he really taken, or did he go on his own volition?" she questioned, trying to hide the bitterness seeping through each word.

"If Raymond ran off with her, I would know. He would have made travel arrangements through myself or another one of his contacts. But that's not the case. As for his location - I overheard them talking about a safehouse location where they would go after the heist. That's where we're headed now. Hopefully that's where he will be."

Lizzie settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. Storming into an unknown location was always daunting, but her FBI training had prepared her well. Her nervousness instead sprung from a well deep inside; the source was a force to be reckoned with, but now was not the time.

The car came to an abrupt stop, rousing Lizzie from her brief respite. Stepping out of the vehicle, Lizzie quickly surveyed her surroundings. A dank and dingy office building, windows clouded by soot from the neighboring factory, stood ominously before her. Two access points secured with padlocks dotted the facade. A small hut jutted out of the roof, suggesting a stairwell leading to the summit of the structure. The buildings nearby also appeared vacated; thankfully, none of them had windows in prime position for a sniper to take aim.

Guns drawn, the pair approached the door on the left. Dembe quickly worked through the padlock and gingerly pushed the door open. Crossing over the threshold he waved Lizzie in. They darted in and out of rooms on the first floor, finding nothing but the remnants of an entrepreneurial enterprise gone awry. The second, third, and fourth were similarly vacant. Discouraged, they climbed the final flight of stairs, praying the information Dembe gleaned from their conversation was accurate. Upon reaching the landing to the fifth floor they heard a muffled moan escape from room before them. Turning the corner they found Reddington shackled to a chair, his head bowed and face bloodied.

Dembe rushed to his aide and started to loosen the bindings that had rendered him defenseless.

"Wait," Lizzie said with a start. "I want a few minutes alone with him before you set him free."

Dembe turned his head to look at her, befuddled by the request. Knowing better than to question her motives he stood from his kneeling position and retreated to the first floor to stand guard.

"Lizzie, I've never been so happy to see you," Reddington said as he raised his head, his voice raspy and thick, tired from his encounters, good and bad, just hours before. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned to his sternum, the sleeves rolled to reveal the flexed muscles in his forearms tied behind his back. His tie was draped across his right thigh, dangling precariously as it neared the dusty floor, as his pants pulled at the tension from his position in the chair, accentuating the well-endowed member hidden below.

"I wish I could say the same. But here we are again...me rescuing you from the evil clutches of the great and ever formidable Ms. Madeline Pratt. Will you EVER learn?" Lizzie barked.

Taken aback by her tone, and the underlying currents of her comments, Reddington thought carefully before responding.

"Maddie and I have a history together, we've known each other for years. I will admit there is an attraction that has, in all likelihood, impaired my judgement, but…"

"Please, spare me the excuses...and the details…" Lizzie said angrily. She took a step toward him, her fists clenched by her side.

"Why don't you undo these bands and we'll have a nice chat over a bottle of wine and dinner," his voice returning to its full-bodied, rich self. "You know, to clear the air. I know this great place downtown where we can..."

"You just don't get it, do you!" she screamed, startling even herself.

"Dammit, Reddington," she said as she lunged toward him, launching herself onto his lap, landing squarely on his cloaked cock. She wrapped her hands around the sides of his head and began to kiss him with a passion she never thought capable of. Reluctant at first, he began to reciprocate, sliding his tongue past her lips, groaning with pleasure.

"Lizzie…" he purred, reluctantly interrupting the moment. Albeit unexpected, he welcomed the opportunity for physical contact and intimacy with the woman he so adored.

"God, what is it?" she said as she pulled away. She was already struggling to come to terms with what just transpired, her mind racing with what-ifs and what-nows.

"While I so welcome this surprise, you've got me in a rather compromising position. Why not set me free so I can reciprocate?" Reddington said with a grin.

"You're not getting off that easy…" Lizzie replied, her tone still edgy and brisk. "For once I am going to be in control, the one calling the shots. But first, I have a few questions for you...and depending on how you respond, you will be rewarded or punished, which in this case, might be one in the same."

Reddington raised an eyebrow at the proposition, curious what she had in mind.

Sliding off his lap Lizzie reached for his tie and began to curl it about her hand. Stepping behind him she wrapped the silk fabric around his head to shield his eyes. As she furnished the makeshift blindfold she bent down to whisper in his ear; blood rushed to his member, swelling as her breathy voice skated across his neck. Still leaning over she reached down the front of his shirt, her fingers enmeshed with the hair springing from his chest. His nipples hardened with each pass of her hands. Cutting the tease short she stood and walked around to his right. Now standing in front of him, she began the mock interrogation.

"Have you learned your lesson? Do you promise to steer clear of Madeline from now on?"

"Now Lizzie, I detected a hint of jealousy earlier, and it seems the green eyed monster is rearing its head yet again."

"Reddington, answering a question with another is going to get you nowhere, fast," Lizzie said as she dropped to her knees between his own. Her hands traced his inner thighs, kneading and palpating as she went. The muscles beneath twitched at her touch. Pausing just briefly at his member, her hands continued north, her fingers freeing the remaining buttons. His chest was now completely bare. Licking her lips, she began to softly kiss his flesh. Reddington let out a soft moan after inhaling sharply.

"Lizzie, please," he begged. "I've been trained to withstand the most treacherous forms of torture...but this far exceeds anything I've ever experienced."

Smiling, Lizzie continued, pausing only to continue her line of questioning.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Yes, god yes…" Reddington said breathlessly.

"Good...now, the next question. How do you feel about me?" Lizzie bit her bottom lip, nervously awaiting his response.

Beads of sweat began to form on Reddington's brow. "Oh Lizzie, you have no idea," he said, trying to concentrate long enough to form complete sentences. "I love you more than life itself. I've tried to hide it, to keep my feelings at bay. But you...us...I've never understood the concept of soulmates until now..."

Lizzie tried to maintain her composure following his admission; she wouldn't let him have the upper hand in this situation, regardless of the admissions that may come to light.

"Well, Mr. Reddington, I suppose that's a suitable response. But I think you're holding out on me…"

Still on her knees she reached for his belt and began to loosen its hold. She unbuttoned his pants and drew down the zipper to reveal his boxers below. Her hand slipped inside, her fingers manipulating his lengthy shaft before freeing his member from the fabric encompassing it. Reddington moaned loudly as Lizzie's continued touch further hardened his member.

"Lizzie, please...please, I beg you."

"Beg me to do what?" she said seductively.

"If you are going to continue, please at least let me watch."

Lizzie stood and walked behind him. She leaned in to kiss his neck, her tongue tracing the scar from their incident in the hotel room months prior. After removing the tie she returned to her station.

"Now, where were we. That's right...you were sharing how you feel about me."

Lizzie lowered her head, her mouth engulfing his cock. She began to playfully nip and suck, the salty taste of pre-cum deposited shortly thereafter. As she progressed she began to feel the familiar spasms signaling the onset of orgasm. She stopped abruptly; Reddington grunted and groaned, wanting nothing more than the sweet release of climax.

"Now, I'd be happy to finish the job, but I need to know…"

"Whatever you want, Lizzie, please…" he panted.

"Do you prefer wearing pajamas to bed or sleeping in the nude?"

"I guess you'll find out tonight..." he said heartily as Lizzie completed her conquest.


	2. Chapter 2

_As always, I do not own any of these characters – darn you, NBC, you lucky bastards! And by the way, this is TOTALLY NSFW._

XXXXXXXX

Writhing in sweet agony, Reddington's release coursed down Lizzie's throat as low, guttural groans emanated from his own. Waves of arousal washed over her body as she licked her lips to wipe away any evidence of their tryst.

Reddington's head hung in defeat. Beads of sweat gathered on his brown and began to pool at the nape of his neck. Albeit worn from the explosive demonstration of his masculinity, he wanted nothing more than to reciprocate, seeking revenge for the exquisite thrashing he had just endured.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie…what am I going to do with you?" He lifted his head and smiled; that sweet, devilish grin that ensnared her from the start. Her pulse began to quicken, the wetness between her legs becoming a distraction yet again.

"Well, I have a few ideas. But I'm far more eager to see what tricks you have up YOUR sleeve."

Relishing the thought of a Round 2, Reddington's imagination sputtered and spun into gear. He started to vocalize some of his ideas when Lizzie's phone rang.

"Lizzie, don't…it can wait…" he pleaded, his cries falling on deaf ears. Reddington knew full well it was work related, but wished, just for one day, that the Post Office could do without its prize profiler.

"Keen…" she said into the phone, her voice trailing off as she walked into another room, feigning the need for privacy. In reality it was the only way she had any chance of concentrating on the discussion at hand.

Lizzie returned to her conquest, still bound to the chair, a few minutes later.

"I have to go. Ressler needs me. We loaned him out to the terrorism task force, and they apparently need someone with a psych background on this particular case."

"No, no, no," Reddington cooed. "I need you. Donald and his rag tag team can wait."

Lizzie wanted nothing more than to continue what they had started. The passion ignited within would be hard to satiate without his assistance.

"You know, as well as I, that I need to run. We wouldn't want to arouse any suspicion amongst the team, now would we? I'll let Dembe know you're ready to be set free on my way out."

Lizzie reached for his member and tucked it beneath his silk boxers. She slowly zipped his pants as she leaned in, his mouth nearly level with her breasts. Reddington's mouth instinctively began to pucker, eager to envelop her nipples thinly veiled by the sheer ivory blouse.

Reddington knew it was futile to protest, so instead resigned himself to enjoy the view as she made her way to the exit.

XXXXXXXX

Hours later, Lizzie returned to her office and collapsed onto the raggedy couch that had been a hand-me-down from the previous tenant. She enjoyed flexing her profiling muscles; in fact, she relished the challenge. But it could be an exhausting exercise of matching wits as she waded into the darker recesses of the human mind.

Lizzie started to compile her notes, taking a mental inventory of the unsubs characteristics. He was well connected, his ties to the underground network matched only by a select few. He was extremely intelligent, a natural born leader…charismatic, but ruthless…a hardened exterior shielding a vulnerable core.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. "I've spent all day consulting with the team, only to map Reddington's profile onto someone totally unrelated. I thought being busy would help me forget about him and what happened not just a few hours prior."

Lizzie could feel her core begin to moisten, her panties becoming damp at the thought of his member inside her mouth.

"Ugh, this is getting me nowhere, fast. I need to shake this off, go for a walk around the block, get some fresh air."

Making her way to the opposite end of the room she instinctively reached for her phone to check messages. Deep in thought, she let out a startled cry when her forward progress was abruptly stopped by a looming figure in the doorway.

"Hello, Lizzie. Where are you headed to in such a hurry?" He cocked his head and smiled.

"Oh, I was just going for a walk to clear my head. This case has me all tied up in knots."

"An interesting choice of words," Reddington replied, his velvety voice purring softly.

"Heh. I suppose your right. Though I'm surprised to see you here. I figured you'd be a tad sore over how I left things yesterday. Literally AND figuratively."

"Oh, come now…do I strike you as the type who keeps a grudge? Who seeks retaliation for when I've been wronged? Perhaps, when it comes to my business dealings…though in the romance department, I prefer to think of it as sexual comeuppance…retribution that can be perceived as reward OR punishment."

Before Lizzie could object, Reddington pulled her body close to his. "You have been a bad, bad girl Lizzie…"

XXXXXXXX

Reddington led Lizzie to one of the more secluded interrogation rooms in the Post Office, commanding her to sit atop the cold, steel table. He had been shackled to a bench similar not months prior, though under very different circumstances. She leaned back and set her palms face down on the chilled surface. Her blouse became taught at the tension, exposing her delicately woven lace bra beneath.

He removed his suit jacket and began to roll his sleeves as he circled his prey.

"Lizzie, you've given me much to think about following our encounter…"

He stopped in front of her and parted her thighs with his hands. His thumbs came to rest on her folds, still at that time cloaked in far more layers than he thought necessary. His hands then coursed over her abdomen until they reached her breasts.

"…and I think you have some explaining to do."

Reddington ripped open her shirt, the delicate buttons bouncing to the floor.

"How, for example, were you able to resist my advances for so long?"

His fingertips expertly began to manipulate her nipples, squeezing and twisting and pinching the tender flesh beneath.

Lizzie inhaled sharply in response. Her attempts at hiding her arousal were failing miserably.

"Or how did you manage to maintain your professionalism while working together despite the sexual tension permeating each of our encounters?"

Reddington's left hand found its way into her pants, his fingers quickly becoming slick. Her clitoris surged with bloodflow; each touch sent an electric shockwave through her body. He smiled upon hearing her whimpers in reply.

Reddington then leaned in to kiss her neck. Sweet, simple pecks gave way to increasingly aggressive mouthfuls, rocking in tandem with each thrust of his hand. Lizzie wanted nothing more to remove her palms from the table to draw him closer but knew it would just lead to more punishment. Instead she pleaded for him to finish the job, to finish what he had started…and finish he did.

XXXXX


End file.
